The-Wrong-Bride-Ares--Raven’s-story-(Maura,-Catharina)_bibis

Chapter Fifty-Three
ARES
“You’ve been quiet all evening,” I murmur as I walk out of Raven’s bathroom. I lean back against the
wall and watch my wife. She’s in nothing but a towel, seated in front of her vanity with a blank
expression. She’s been combing her hair for several minutes now when it rarely takes her more than a
few moments. I can pretty much guess what’s going through her mind.
She looks up at me through the mirror and forces a smile as she puts her hairbrush down, but she
makes no move to come near me. Instead, her gaze travels back to her face, and the way she stares at
her reflection breaks my heart.
She and I have been existing in an environment that has been wholly supportive of our marriage.
Everyone around us has acted like my past with Hannah is non-existent, and the fact that very few
people ever even knew about Hannah and me made it much easier to live in our facade.
I expected this trip to be hard, but this has exceeded my expectations in the worst way. I should
have done more to make her feel better, but there’s nothing I could have done without breaking my
promise to her. She asked me to keep the peace and put her father first, and I’ve tried my best to do
so… but I shouldn’t have.
“Raven.”
I walk up to her and grab her hand, pulling her to her feet in one swift motion. She’s gasps as she
crashes into me, and I wrap my arms around her with a smile on my face.
“Ares,” she says, her voice soft and filled with anguish. She’s stiff in my embrace, and it pains
me. She isn’t herself here, and I wish I could just take her home.
“Cupcake,” I whisper as I lean in, my lips brushing over hers. She tenses, and a sense of loss
washes over me. Normally she’d have smiled as she rises to her tiptoes, kissing me in that way she
knows drives me insane. But here, now, she avoids my touch.
I let my fingers trails up her spine, until I’ve got them buried in her hair, my grip tight. I force my
wife to face me, yet she still defies me, averting her gaze. “Baby, look at me.”
She inhales shakily as her long lashes flutter for a moment before she looks up at me, her eyes
filled with tears. Fuck.
“Ares,” she whispers, my name a plea on her lips. “Please don’t. I can’t do this tonight. I can’t
keep up the pretence tonight.”